Margaret Brownley, Robin Lee Hatcher, Mary Connealy, Debra Clopton

by A Bride for All Seasons

  After the boys had been tucked into bed for the night, Megan and David left their room and in the hallway outside their own bedroom door, Megan asked, “You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

  He rubbed one open hand on his chest. “I really am. Do you think it’s possible I’ve beat this thing?”

  Megan touched his cheek. “It’s God’s most generous Thanksgiving blessing.” She kissed him.

  He kissed her back with much more enthusiasm than she’d expected. “Lying next to you every night, especially now that I’m feeling better, is tough.”

  Frowning, Megan said, “Do you want me to get out? I don’t—”

  A rusty laugh cut her off. “What I want has nothing to do with you getting out, Meggie.” His expression grew very serious as he pulled her close. “It’s wrong of me to . . . to be . . . with you in the night.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve made that perfectly plain.” Megan lifted her chin so David would know every ounce of stubbornness she possessed. “I’ve told you that a wife’s place is beside her husb—”

  He cut her off with another kiss. Without lifting his lips away, he pushed open their door. “If I’m getting well, and you’re in my bed to stay, lass, I’m not going to be able to resist showing you more about being a wife.”

  “We aren’t going to go over the ranch accounts again, are we?” Megan let herself be pulled inside the room.

  “No, this is something brand new.” He shut the door with a firm click. “It’s a part of married life I think we’re both going to enjoy.”

  Then he stopped her next question with a kiss.

  She found this lesson far superior to any she’d known before.

  “If you’re going to live, why do I have to ride this blasted horse?” Megan hissed at Dave as the boys rode off with Roper.

  “We’ve got a nice day on our hands. No sense wasting it.” As Dave boosted his little wife into the saddle, he inhaled deeply with almost no pain.

  He watched her trim form settle in. She was getting better. Or he might be substituting hope for common sense.

  It was the first day of winter and uncommonly mild. His cowhands were scurrying around checking the cattle, making sure the animals had access to water and prairie hay.

  As he mulled over whether to let Megan hold the reins herself—most likely Old Blue wouldn’t move if Dave wasn’t leading her—five cowhands rode into the yard. They’d gone to town for supplies and ended up staying four days while a blizzard blew itself through the area, followed by the unusually warm weather. They’d finally managed to get home.

  “Unpack the horses and leave the supplies I ordered in the house.” Dave hated giving orders for the men to do work he couldn’t do. It made him feel worthless. He was healing. He could help, he thought, as a hard cough tore at his chest and stopped him from offering.

  All the men but one rode on to the house. The eldest of the bunch, newly hired, swung down off his mount. “We had to make a few changes in the supplies. Hope they suit you, boss.”

  The new cowhand gave a quick rundown, all of it fine, then suddenly was seized by a fit of coughing worse than Dave’s.

  Dave stepped back so fast he almost tripped over his feet. Megan gasped and threw herself off her horse. The cowpoke had his head down coughing and didn’t notice their reactions.

  When the coughing ended, he shook his head. “Reckon I caught a cold in town.”

  Two nights later David started running a fever.

  Megan had fought for her mother’s life. And that of her little brother. Now David, already fragile, had a cold and Megan prepared for battle.

  Megan didn’t get the cold. She never got sick. But the boys did, and the coughing and sneezing abounded.

  Megan prayed for complete healing as if every bit of David’s health rested in the hands of the Almighty. At the same time she worked as if it was all up to her. She thought God supported her in that approach to life.

  The lads healed up quickly with no ill effect. And David right along with them.

  When the cold finally eased away, David said, as he ate chicken soup for the tenth time in a week, “I think I’m going to beat this cold without it getting into my chest.”

  Megan smiled. “Maybe I can finally make something else for a meal then.”

  “Would you please, Ma?” Ben did his share of fussing, but the hardy stew, brimming with onions and carrots and potatoes besides the thick noodles and big chunks of chicken, got scooped up and gobbled down fast.

  “Can’t we fry the chicken next time?” Zack added.

  David smiled at her and shrugged. “It’s delicious soup, Meg.” He inhaled the warm, savory smell of it. “But I reckon we’re ready for a change.”

  “As am I.” Megan laughed. “So all three of you are well? It’s glad of it, I am.”

  Rubbing on his chest, as he did so often, David said, “I feel better even than I felt before I got sick. I think staying to bed for the last few days—”

  “You didn’t do that as well as I wanted.” Megan jabbed a very bossy finger at him.

  “—and eating your soup,” he went on.

  “Eating it and eating it and eating it.” Ben talked around a mouthful of biscuit.

  “—drinking your medicinal tea,” David added.

  “There’s tea for all of you after supper. No shirking on medicine until I’m satisfied that you’re all safe as a mouse in a malt heap.”

  “All of that has helped.” David turned back to his chicken stew with a sigh. “I think I’m going to be fine, not just from this cold, but from what was ailing me before. And it’s thanks to you, Meggie.”

  “In time for Christmas too.” Megan’s satisfaction ran deep.

  The boys filled their bellies with her stew, biscuits and honey, lots of milk, and a peach pie.

  Megan couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she watched her men feast.

  “In fact, I’m feeling well enough that tomorrow I’m going to teach you how to feed the livestock and saddle a horse.” He smirked at her, knowing just how well she liked her ranching lessons.

  ON CHRISTMAS, DAVE FELT MORE HIMSELF THAN HE had since he’d tangled with that longhorn last spring.

  At day’s end, the boys tucked in bed, David and Megan sat before the fire in the parlor, watching the logs crackle and blaze. It was their special way of celebrating Christmas, just the two of them. Dave took the last sip of his tea and let the warmth ease into his bones.

  “Why did you build such a large house, David?”

  Maybe it was the warmth and the fact that he was drowsy and feeling the thrill of good health, but for the first time Dave could talk freely about Pamela.

  “My first wife was born and raised in the city. She was used to civilization, a social whirl, and a fine home.”

  Megan smiled as she looked over her head at the high ceiling. “So you were trying to give her one of the three out here?”

  A crack of laughter surprised him. Never, since her death, had he come close to thinking or talking about his wife and found any urge to laugh. “I reckon that’s exactly what I had in mind. I always wanted to come back west. Pamela didn’t want to leave her mother or her friends. I knew they were building the railroad, and I had it in my head that we’d come when we could ride the train all the way. I even told her she’d be able to come back east to visit easily.”

  “Easily? We were days on that train and that was only to Chicago.”

  “Well, easily compared to riding a covered wagon.”

  “And I suppose if you have your own car it’s fairly comfortable.” Megan leaned her head on his shoulder. “Though not as comfortable as staying at home.”

  He felt the weight of it, the relaxed closeness, and realized he’d never felt this with Pamela. He’d been so determined to cherish her. Spoil her. Anything to make her happy. She’d reveled in the lavish parties and the glittering balls. She’d delighted in the theater in New York City and dinners in fine restaurants. She loved to sh
op and there was always a new bit of jewelry catching her eye or a gown that she simply had to have. And he’d been delighted to provide them for her.

  But never had she sat quietly by the fire, exhausted after a long but lovely day, her weary head on his shoulder. Dave had respected Megan ever since she saved Zack’s life. He’d been fond of her ever since she’d kept the boys quiet on the train so he could sleep. He was attracted to her wholesome beauty and loved holding her and sharing passion with her in the night.

  Only now, at this moment as she rested her weary head and enjoyed peace and quiet before a crackling fire, did he realize he loved her.

  “I should have gotten you a Christmas present, Meg. You made something for me and got nothing in return. I’m sorry.” He turned, expecting to see some trace of hurt in her eyes.

  Instead, she raised her head off his shoulder and smiled until she nearly glowed. “You’re well. ’Tis true, isn’t it?”

  “It’s true. But don’t change the subject. Can you forgive me for not getting you a gift?”

  “You got me the most wonderful gift of all—you’re healed.” Megan stretched up and kissed him generously. “Beyond that—well, I just can’t imagine what I’d even want.”

  Dave rested one open palm on her cheek, caressing the glorious freckles. Enjoying the blue eyes sparking in the firelight. “There is a gift I’d like to give you, such as it is.”

  “You don’t need to get me anything.” She sounded stern and honest, which only made Dave want to give her the gift more.

  He inhaled slowly, wanting her to be fully aware of how true his words were. At last he spoke. “I want to give you the gift of my love, Megan Laramie.”

  A tiny gasp escaped her lips. He caught the gasp with his mouth and returned her kiss full measure. He was a long time going on. “Getting you for my wife is the best thing that ever happened to me. Will you accept the gift of my love?”

  “Oh yes, David. I accept it and return it completely.”

  Dave didn’t know he was waiting to hear that until he did. Relief swept through him like a Wyoming windstorm. He kissed her deeply and pulled her hard against him. Her arms came around his neck. He pressed her down on the sofa until they lay together.

  The fire burned low. The smell of the crackling wood surrounded them. A log split and fell, sending sparks dancing upward. The wind howled outside, but it couldn’t reach them as they shared their warmth within sturdy walls.

  It was a peaceful, holy night.

  “Everything is going to be perfect,” Megan whispered between kisses. “I feel it in my bones.”

  BUT MEGAN’S BRAIN WASN’T LOCATED IN HER BONES, now, was it?

  David’s lessons on ranching continued at an almost desperate pace, as if he expected to die any moment. He still clutched his chest, though when she asked about it he would catch himself and shake his head.

  “I know I’m fine. I’m sure of it. But any little twinge sets me to worrying. I’ll get over it.”

  The tenth time in a week she found David holding his hand against his chest, looking into the distance, she finally took action.

  A little talk with Roper. A few arrangements, then wait for the first nice day to present itself . . . which took over a month. February third. Spring was still a long way off, but the day was clear; the wind wasn’t bitter. And Megan was losing her mind.

  “Sure and ’tis a beauty of a day, David. I’d like for us to take a trip to town if we could.”

  David looked up from his breakfast, surprised. “Town, why?”

  She’d considered claiming to be out of flour or sugar or needles. But those would be lies and she wasn’t a liar.

  “Because I’d like to talk to the doctor. Roper told me there’s a new doctor in town and he’s a good one.”

  “D-Doctor?” David took such a nervous glance at her middle, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

  Laughing, Megan waved two hands at him. “No, not for that.”

  Although she had to admit it wasn’t altogether impossible. But the notion of having a doctor involved in something as natural as having a baby, should one ever come, was foolish.

  “I want you to go.”

  “Why? I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor.”

  “True enough and that’s exactly why I want you to see him. To tell you you’re fine. I see you worry, and it’s because of that Chicago doctor. I want someone to reassure you.”

  The boys picked that moment to come clamoring into the kitchen, still in their nightshirts, demanding breakfast. Nothing more got said about town until the boys had cleaned their plates.

  Later, as Megan guided the boys out of the kitchen to get them dressed, she looked over her shoulder at David. “Get your warmest coat on. Roper is going to mind the boys while we’re gone. He’s bringing the horses around now.”

  “The horses?” David sat up straight. “You’re going to ride a horse all the way to town?”

  “I’ve been practicing, haven’t I?” And she’d gotten pretty good.

  “You’ll fall off and break your neck.”

  The boys had run ahead. She knew they were capable of dressing themselves so Megan stayed to have this out. “We’re going, and that’s that. I’ll be back with my coat on in two shakes.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “David Laramie.” Her tone was too sharp, but she couldn’t help it. He was so stubborn. “We’re going or I’ll send Roper to town to fetch the doctor out. But you are going to see a doctor however it has to be arranged.”

  “I don’t need a doctor.”

  “I see the worry in your eyes. You’re willing to hope that you’re well but you can’t let go of your fretting, and what’s more, I don’t blame you. It’s a sword hanging over your head and I want to have done with it.”

  “The doctor in Chicago said—”

  “Fine!” Megan cut him off. She charged for the back door as Roper led the horses up. “You’re going to have to ride to town for the doctor,” she told the foreman. “David won’t go.”

  Roper nodded and turned to lead one horse back to the barn.

  “No, bring them back.” David came up behind her. “I’ll go.”

  She could feel his irritation, his hot breath felt rather like an angry bull breathing down her neck.

  But she was getting her way, so she didn’t fuss.

  “We have to ride hard to get to town and back, the weather can change suddenly and we’ll be trapped away from the boys.” Dave looked at his stubborn wife clinging to her saddle horn. He’d put her on a livelier horse than Old Blue, one Megan had ridden a few times.

  If they took Blue they wouldn’t get to town until after the spring thaw.

  “It’s a long ride in and home. The weather may not hold.” Dave was in the mood to torment his wife just a little. He took her reins. “Hold on tight. We’re going to trot.”

  But not gallop. Dave knew she’d never survive that.

  They set a steady pace and Megan was hanging on well, when they rounded the last of the rugged hills. One look at the snow-packed trail and Dave pulled both horses to an abrupt halt. He snagged Megan before she could go flying off her mount.

  “What’s—”

  “Hush.” Dave hissed the word at her. “This way.” He whirled his horse, still hanging on to Megan, and rode behind a stand of aspens. “Get down.”

  He didn’t wait for her to obey him. He dragged her off her horse. Tied both animals to the meager shelter and whipped his rifle out of the boot on his saddle. “Stay behind me.”

  “What is it?” Megan whispered.

  Dave pointed. “Up there.” He barely breathed the words as he pointed to a massive oak tree with branches that stretched across the trail.

  A thin gasp told him Megan had seen the mountain lion lying on the low branch, waiting to pounce on anything that came down this trail.

  “I’ll clear her out.”

  “Her?” Megan leaned forward until her front was pressed against his back. He
r warmth and strength made him smile even while he was shaken from how close they’d come to being a meal for a lion.

  “Shh!” Dave found he enjoyed bossing Megan around. It wasn’t an admirable quality, but that didn’t stop him from smiling as he took aim.

  One blast, the branch splintered under her front legs and the lion leapt to its feet. With a snarl, the lion coiled its muscles and looked straight at David as if to attack. Dave fired a fast line of bullets across the branch inches below where the cat stood. Bark splattered the critter with every shot. Dave sprayed the old girl without hurting her. He hadn’t done much shooting for a long time, but he still had that almost eerie speed and accuracy. He traced a line of bullets all the way to her tail, taking pleasure in how naturally the skill came and how confident he was that he wouldn’t harm the cat.

  Finally, in an almost human scream, the mountain lion whirled away and vanished from sight.

  “Let’s get out of here before she comes back.”

  “You could tell it was a girl?”

  “Yes, a mama with babies in a den around here somewhere.” He could see that she was nursing young ones. Dave hadn’t realized how much he’d missed life in the West. He’d learned so much before he’d been driven away, and now he was back and he had a wife he loved and sons who filled his heart with pride. He was going to live. In that instant he knew it, as well as any man can know a thing like that.

  “If we were closer to home, I might’ve killed her to protect the cattle and my hands, and because there’s good eatin’ on a big cat like that. But this far from the ranch there’s no sense shooting her and leaving her babies orphaned.” The thought of his own boys almost being orphaned had stayed his hand.

  “That’s how good a shot you were when you were the O. T. Rider, wasn’t it?”

  “Yep. I was too good and too willing to pull the trigger.”

  Megan stared at that line of bullet holes for a long time, then she tossed her hair and said, “I reckon you oughta teach me to shoot.”

  David controlled a shudder to think of Megan with a gun. “Just as soon as you’ve learned to ride.” That’d give him a long, long time.